It is remarkable that, although the king might be justly surmised to give little credence to the pretended plot, and the Duke of York was manifestly affected in his interests by the heats it excited, yet the judges most subservient to the court, Scroggs, North, Jones, went with all violence into the popular cry, till, the witnesses beginning to attack the queen, and to menace the duke, they found it was time to rein in, as far as they could, the passions they had instigated.[748] Pemberton, a more honest man in political matters, showed a remarkable intemperance and unfairness in all trials relating to popery. Even in that of Lord Stafford in 1680, the last, and perhaps the worst, proceeding under this delusion, though the court had a standing majority in the House of Lords, he was convicted by fifty-five peers against thirty-one; the Earl of Nottingham, lord chancellor, the Duke of Lauderdale, and several others of the administration voting him guilty, while he was acquitted by the honest Hollis and the acute Halifax.[749] So far was the belief in the popish plot, or the eagerness in hunting its victims to death, from being confined to the whig faction, as some writers have been willing to insinuate. None had more contributed to rouse the national outcry against the accused, and create a firm persuasion of the reality of the plot, than the clergy in their sermons, even the most respectable of their order, Sancroft, Sharp, Barlow, Burnet, Tillotson, Stillingfleet; inferring its truth from Godfrey's murder or Coleman's letters, calling for the severest laws against catholics, and imputing to them the fire of London, nay, even the death of Charles I.[750]

Exclusion of Duke of York proposed.—Though the Duke of York was not charged with participation in the darkest schemes of the popish conspirators, it was evident that his succession was the great aim of their endeavours, and evident also that he had been engaged in the more real and undeniable intrigues of Coleman. His accession to the throne, long viewed with just apprehension, now seemed to threaten such perils to every part of the constitution, as ought not supinely to be waited for, if any means could be devised to obviate them. This gave rise to the bold measure of the exclusion bill, too bold indeed for the spirit of the country, and the rock on which English liberty was nearly shipwrecked. In the long parliament, full as it was of pensioners and creatures of court influence, nothing so vigorous would have been successful. Even in the bill which excluded catholic peers from sitting in the House of Lords, a proviso, exempting the Duke of York from its operation, having been sent down from the other house, passed by a majority of two voices.[751] But the zeal they showed against Danby induced the king to put an end to this parliament of seventeen years' duration; an event long ardently desired by the popular party, who foresaw their ascendancy in the new elections.[752] The next House of Commons accordingly came together with an ardour not yet quenched by corruption; and after reviving the impeachments commenced by their predecessors, and carrying a measure long in agitation, a test[753] which shut the catholic peers out of parliament, went upon the exclusion bill. Their dissolution put a stop to this; and in the next parliament the Lords rejected it.[754]

The right of excluding an unworthy heir from the succession was supported not only by the plain and fundamental principles of civil society, which establish the interest of the people to be the paramount object of political institutions, but by those of the English constitution. It had always been the better opinion among lawyers, that the reigning king with consent of parliament was competent to make any changes in the inheritance of the Crown; and this, besides the acts passed under Henry VIII. empowering him to name his successor, was expressly enacted, with heavy penalties against such as should contradict it, in the thirteenth year of Elizabeth. The contrary doctrine indeed, if pressed to its legitimate consequences, would have shaken all the statutes that limit the prerogative; since, if the analogy of entails in private inheritances were to be resorted to, and the existing legislature should be supposed incompetent to alter the line of succession, they could as little impair as they could alienate the indefeasible rights of the heir; nor could he be bound by restrictions to which he had never given his assent. It seemed strange to maintain that the parliament could reduce a king of England to the condition of a doge of Venice, by shackling and taking away his authority, and yet could not divest him of a title which they could render little better than a mockery. Those accordingly who disputed the legislative omnipotence of parliament did not hesitate to assert that statutes infringing on the prerogative were null of themselves. With the court lawyers conspired the clergy, who pretended these matters of high policy and constitutional law to be within their province; and, with hardly an exception, took a zealous part against the exclusion. It was indeed a measure repugnant to the common prejudices of mankind; who, without entering on the abstract competency of parliament, are naturally accustomed in an hereditary monarchy to consider the next heir as possessed of a right, which, except through necessity, or notorious criminality, cannot be justly divested. The mere profession of a religion different from the established, does not seem, abstractedly considered, an adequate ground for unsettling the regular order of inheritance. Yet such was the narrow bigotry of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, which died away almost entirely among protestants in the next, that even the trifling differences between Lutherans and Calvinists had frequently led to alternate persecutions in the German states, as a prince of one or the other denomination happened to assume the government. And the Romish religion, in particular, was in that age of so restless and malignant a character, that unless the power of the Crown should be far more strictly limited than had hitherto been the case, there must be a very serious danger from any sovereign of that faith; and the letters of Coleman, as well as other evidences, made it manifest that the Duke of York was engaged in a scheme of general conversion, which, from his arbitrary temper and the impossibility of succeeding by fair means, it was just to apprehend, must involve the subversion of all civil liberty. Still this was not distinctly perceived by persons at a distance from the scene, imbued, as most of the gentry were, with the principles of the old cavaliers, and those which the church had inculcated. The king, though hated by the dissenters, retained the affections of that party, who forgave the vices they deplored, to his father's memory and his personal affability. It appeared harsh and disloyal to force his consent to the exclusion of a brother in whom he saw no crime, and to avoid which he offered every possible expedient.[755] There will always be found in the people of England a strong unwillingness to force the reluctance of their sovereign—a latent feeling, of which parties in the heat of their triumphs are seldom aware, because it does not display itself until the moment of reaction. And although, in the less settled times before the revolution, this personal loyalty was highly dangerous, and may still, no doubt, sometimes break out so as to frustrate objects of high import to the public weal, it is on the whole a salutary temper for the conservation of the monarchy, which may require such a barrier against the encroachments of factions and the fervid passions of the multitude.

Schemes of Shaftesbury and Monmouth.—The bill of exclusion was drawn with as much regard to the inheritance of the Duke of York's daughters as they could reasonably demand, or as any lawyer engaged for them could have shown; though something different seems to be insinuated by Burnet. It provided that the imperial crown of England should descend to and be enjoyed by such person or persons successively during the life of the Duke of York, as should have inherited or enjoyed the same in case he were naturally dead. If the Princess of Orange was not expressly named (which, the bishop tells us, gave a jealousy, as though it were intended to keep that matter still undetermined), this silence was evidently justified by the possible contingency of the birth of a son to the duke, whose right there was no intention in the framers of the bill to defeat. But a large part of the opposition had unfortunately other objects in view. It had been the great error of those who withstood the arbitrary counsels of Charles II. to have admitted into their closest confidence, and in a considerable degree to the management of their party, a man so destitute of all honest principle as the Earl of Shaftesbury. Under his contaminating influence their passions became more untractable, their connections more seditious and democratical, their schemes more revolutionary, and they broke away more and more from the line of national opinion, till a fatal reaction involved themselves in ruin, and exposed the cause of public liberty to its most imminent peril. The countenance and support of Shaftesbury brought forward that unconstitutional and most impolitic scheme of the Duke of Monmouth's succession. There could hardly be a greater insult to a nation used to respect its hereditary line of kings, than to set up the bastard of a prostitute, without the least pretence of personal excellence or public services, against a princess of known virtue and attachment to the protestant religion. And the effrontery of this attempt was aggravated by the libels eagerly circulated to dupe the credulous populace into a belief of Monmouth's legitimacy. The weak young man, lured on to destruction by the arts of intriguers and the applause of the multitude, gave just offence to sober-minded patriots, who knew where the true hopes of public liberty were anchored, by a kind of triumphal procession through parts of the country, and by other indications of a presumptuous ambition.[756]

Unsteadiness of the king.—If any apology can be made for the encouragement given by some of the whig party (for it was by no means general) to the pretensions of Monmouth, it must be found in their knowledge of the king's affection for him, which furnished a hope that he might more easily be brought in to the exclusion of his brother for the sake of so beloved a child than for the Prince of Orange. And doubtless there was a period when Charles's acquiescence in the exclusion did not appear so unattainable as, from his subsequent line of behaviour, we are apt to consider it. It appears from the recently published life of James, that in the autumn of 1680 the embarrassment of the king's situation, and the influence of the Duchess of Portsmouth, who had gone over to the exclusionists, made him seriously deliberate on abandoning his brother.[757] Whether from natural instability of judgment, from the steady adherence of France to the Duke of York, or from observing the great strength of the tory party in the House of Lords, where the bill was rejected by a majority of 63 to 30, he soon returned to his former disposition. It was long however before he treated James with perfect cordiality. Conscious of his own insincerity in religion, which the duke's bold avowal of an obnoxious creed seemed to reproach, he was provoked at bearing so much of the odium, and incurring so many of the difficulties, which attended a profession that he had not ventured to make. He told Hyde, before the dissolution of the parliament in 1680, that it would not be in his power to protect his brother any longer, if he did not conform and go to church.[758] Hyde himself, and the duke's other friends, had never ceased to urge him on this subject. Their importunity was renewed by the king's order, even after the dissolution of the Oxford parliament; and it seems to have been the firm persuasion of most about the court that he could only be preserved by conformity to the protestant religion. He justly apprehended the consequences of a refusal; but, inflexibly conscientious on this point, he braved whatever might arise from the timidity or disaffection of the ministers and the selfish fickleness of the king.

In the apprehensions excited by the king's unsteadiness and the defection of the Duchess of Portsmouth, he deemed his fortunes so much in jeopardy, as to have resolved on exciting a civil war, rather than yield to the exclusion. He had already told Barillon that the royal authority could be re-established by no other means.[759] The episcopal party in Scotland had gone such lengths that they could hardly be safe under any other king. The catholics of England were of course devoted to him. With the help of these he hoped to show himself so formidable that Charles would find it his interest to quit that cowardly line of politics, to which he was sacrificing his honour and affections. Louis, never insensible to any occasion of rendering England weak and miserable, directed his ambassador to encourage the duke in this guilty project with the promise of assistance.[760] It seems to have been prevented by the wisdom or public spirit of Churchill, who pointed out to Barillon the absurdity of supposing that the duke could stand by himself in Scotland. This scheme of lighting up the flames of civil war in three kingdoms, for James's private advantage, deserves to be more remarked than it has hitherto been at a time when the apologists seem to have become numerous. If the designs of Russell and Sidney for the preservation of their country's liberty are blamed as rash and unjustifiable, what name shall we give to the project of maintaining the pretensions of an individual by means of rebellion and general bloodshed?

It is well known that those who took a concern in the maintenance of religion and liberty, were much divided as to the best expedients for securing them; some, who thought the exclusion too violent, dangerous, or impracticable, preferring the enactment of limitations on the prerogatives of a catholic king. This had begun in fact from the court, who passed a bill through the House of Lords in 1677, for the security, as it was styled, of the protestant religion. This provided that a declaration and oath against transubstantiation should be tendered to every king within fourteen days after his accession; that, on his refusal to take it, the ecclesiastical benefices in the gift of the Crown should vest in the bishops, except that the king should name to every vacant see one out of three persons proposed to him by the bishops of the province. It enacted also, that the children of a king refusing such a test should be educated by the archbishop and two or three more prelates. This bill dropped in the Commons; and Marvell speaks of it as an insidious stratagem of the ministry.[761] It is more easy, however, to give hard names to a measure originating with an obnoxious government, than to prove that it did not afford a considerable security to the established church, and impose a very remarkable limitation on the prerogative. But the opposition in the House of Commons had probably conceived their scheme of exclusion, and would not hearken to any compromise. As soon as the exclusion became the topic of open discussion, the king repeatedly offered to grant every security that could be demanded consistently with the lineal succession. Hollis, Halifax, and for a time Essex, as well as several eminent men in the lower house, were in favour of limitations.[762] But those which they intended to insist upon were such encroachments on the constitutional authority of the Crown, that, except a title and revenue, which Charles thought more valuable than all the rest, a popish king would enjoy no one attribute of royalty. The king himself, on the 30th of April 1679, before the heats on the subject had become so violent as they were the next year, offered not only to secure all ecclesiastical preferments from the control of a popish successor, but to provide that the parliament in being at a demise of the Crown or the last that had been dissolved, should immediately sit and be indissoluble for a certain time; that none of the privy council, nor judges, lord lieutenant, deputy lieutenant, nor officer of the navy, should be appointed during the reign of a catholic king, without consent of parliament. He offered at the same time most readily to consent to any further provision that could occur to the wisdom of parliament for the security of religion and liberty consistently with the right of succession. Halifax, the eloquent and successful opponent of the exclusion, was the avowed champion of limitations. It was proposed, in addition to these offers of the king, that the duke, in case of his accession, should have no negative voice on bills; that he should dispose of no civil or military posts without consent of parliament; that a council of forty-one, nominated by the two houses, should sit permanently during the recess or interval of parliament, with power of appointing to all vacant offices, subject to the future approbation of the Lords and Commons.[763] These extraordinary innovations would, at least for the time, have changed our constitution into a republic; and justly appeared to many persons more revolutionary than an alteration in the course of succession. The Duke of York looked on them with dismay; Charles indeed privately declared that he would never consent to such infringements of the prerogative.[764] It is not however easy to perceive how he could have escaped from the necessity of adhering to his own propositions, if the House of Commons would have relinquished the bill of exclusion. The Prince of Orange, who was doubtless in secret not averse to the latter measure, declared strongly against the plan of restrictions, which a protestant successor might not find it practicable to shake off. Another expedient, still more ruinous to James than that of limitations, was what the court itself suggested in the Oxford parliament, that the duke retaining the title of king, a regent should be appointed, in the person of the Princess of Orange, with all the royal prerogatives; nay, that the duke, with his pageant crown on his head, should be banished from England during his life.[765] This proposition, which is a great favourite with Burnet, appears liable to the same objections as were justly urged against a similar scheme at the revolution. It was certain that in either case James would attempt to obtain possession of power by force of arms; and the law of England would not treat very favourably those who should resist an acknowledged king in his natural capacity, while the statute of Henry VII. would, legally speaking, afford a security to the adherents of a de facto sovereign.

Upon the whole, it is very unlikely, when we look at the general spirit and temper of the nation, its predilection for the ancient laws, its dread of commonwealth and fanatical principles, the tendency of the upper ranks to intrigue and corruption, the influence and activity of the church, the bold counsels and haughty disposition of James himself, that either the exclusion, or such extensive limitations as were suggested in lieu of it, could have been carried into effect with much hope of a durable settlement. It would, I should conceive, have been practicable to secure the independence of the judges, to exclude unnecessary placemen and notorious pensioners from the House of Commons, to render the distribution of money among its members penal, to remove from the protestant dissenters, by a full toleration, all temptation to favour the court, and, above all, to put down the standing army. Though none perhaps of these provisions would have prevented the attempts of this and the next reign to introduce arbitrary power, they would have rendered them still more grossly illegal; and, above all, they would have saved that unhappy revolution of popular sentiment which gave the court encouragement and temporary success.

Names of Whig and Tory.—It was in the year 1679, that the words Whig and Tory first were heard in their application to English factions; and, though as senseless as any cant terms that could be devised, they became instantly as familiar in use as they have since continued. There were then indeed questions in agitation, which rendered the distinction more broad and intelligible than it has generally been in later times. One of these, and the most important, was the bill of exclusion; in which, as it was usually debated, the republican principle, that all positive institutions of society are in order to the general good, came into collision with that of monarchy, which rests on the maintenance of a royal line, as either the end, or at least the necessary means, of lawful government. But, as the exclusion was confessedly among those extraordinary measures, to which men of tory principles are sometimes compelled to resort in great emergencies, and which no rational whig espouses at any other time, we shall better perhaps discern the formation of these grand political sects in the petitions for the sitting of parliament, and in the counter addresses of the opposite party.